Time to Pretend
by chronically radioactive
Summary: Academic pressure and her strange new attraction to Scorpius Malfoy are slowly driving Rose Weasley mental. Rewritten/retitled. M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Rose flips through pages of her textbook, biting into an apple. Albus waves a hand in front of her face, effectively cutting off her vision, so she glances up at him in annoyance. She looks around her table, the Gryffindor table, to see her friends snickering. Rose raises an eyebrow at her cousin quizzically.

"Al, what do you want? I'm studying."

Albus simply points across the table to Andrew Finnigan, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Al takes the book from her hands, handing it to the duo's other friend, Lysander Scamander, to confiscate. Rose much prefers hanging out with her cousin and his friends, despite the more-than-occasional acts of immaturity, and the testosterone-induced fights.

She sticks her tongue out at Andrew, forcefully wrenching her textbook from Lysander's hands. Al rolls his eyes, fed up with trying to tease his cousin, and turns to flirt with a few of the ever-present girls that hang around the small group.

"What do you want, Finnigan?" Rose chirps, trying to smooth out the dog-eared page that Albus wrinkled when he grabbed the book.

"Rosie," Andrew begins, like a concerned mother, "the bloody studying is getting out of control. We're holding an intervention; you've obviously gone bonkers," he quips, raising a finger and twirling it against the side of his head – _you're nuts._

"Unlike some of the dirty prats at this table, I don't bum around. Especially when the N.E.W.T.s are coming up," she replies, closing the heavy text and focusing on the breakfast in front of her as she spoke.

The Great Hall was, as always, chaotic with the number of excited students it held. Rose tries to shut out the nose, and brushes a wild curl from her eyes. She exchanges a few more words of banter with Al and Andrew when they try to accuse her of reading erotic novels.

Good-naturedly, she snaps "Fucking wankers!", laughing a bit too boisterously, a bit too tomboyishly. But she's enjoying her morning, and that's all that matters. At least, she was enjoying her morning, up until Lorcan whistles, low and loud. Everyone sitting around them turns to look at the stranger twin, shaggy haired and grinning wolfishly.

"Whassit, Scamander?" Albus asks, and his friend points across the Hall as the giant doors swing shut. Scorpius Malfoy, of all bloody people, has sauntered into the hall with this week's girl, arm hanging over her shoulder. The couple looks disheveled, and the poor girl tries to fix her hair self-consciously when the entire student body turns to stare at them. Rose voices her opinion with a judgmental snort, and Al shakes his head in agreement.

Considering the state the duo are in and how late they are to breakfast, it's obvious to everyone what they've been up to.

"How does he bloody do it?" Al asks in astonishment, ogling the pretty brunette hanging all over the taller blonde boy.

"Do what?" Rose asks nonchalantly, as if she isn't focusing on Scorpius's sexily messy appearance, like she's not trying to hold down the strange sting of jealousy that twitches in her stomach.

Lorcan and Andrew join Al in their state of awe. "He's got a different girl almost every fucking day, Rosie," Lysander says, and his twin raises a hand to his forehead theatrically. "Yeah, oi, what's wrong with us? Why don't we ever get any?"

Rose chuckles, shuts her book, and allows herself to watch the annoyingly attractive pair strut farther into the Hall. _They do look rather good together_, she admits silently.

"Think the answer to that one is obvious, Scamander," she says, poking fun at Lorcan's obnoxious Gryffindor sweater vest, askew glasses, and tousled curly hair. She falls into a fit of laughter when a muffin chunk bounces off of her forehead, thrown by the faux-offended boy.

Al tears his eyes away from the girl, shaking his head in disbelief again. He turns to Rose, setting his head in his hand with such a cheeky sense of thoughtfulness that Rose just has to mimic the gesture.

"Honestly, Rosie. You're a girl, right?"

"Occasionally!" Lorcan and Lysander chime.

"Naw, she's got no tits," Andrew announces.

Al shushes them. "Tell us, what's so damn awesome about Scorpius Malfoy?"

Rose, astounished and wondering if he's found out about her dark secret crush, stares at her cousin blankly. He takes the expression for disgust, thank Merlin, and laughs.

Really, she could have listed ten thousand wickedly attractive things about the Slytherin boy. His messy hair practically _begs_ for someone to run their hands through it, and his _body, _sweet mother of... It was well-known that most of his spare time was spent on Quidditch, and Merlin, did it show.

_Or, fuck,_ Rose groans mentally, _or his voice, _and the husky, masculine tone to it. She feels something start her heart at an irregular beat. There goes that memory, the time he'd cornered her in the library, when he'd pressed his lips to her neck and _Merlin_ if he had jus-

_HALT, _screams her conscious, _STOP THAT!_

Rose shakes her head, trying to clear all possibly images of the Slytherin from her mind. She bites into her apple a little too violently, turning to Albus. "Really, he can't be _that_ bloody good of a shag," she says darkly, throwing what she hoped was her best disbelieving glance at the couple. Albus, the twins, and Andrew all look pretty doubtful, despite being the heterosexual boys they are.

"I bet you prats five hundred Galleons he makes those…rumos up himself," she nods in finality. For the third time, Al shakes his head, snapping it back to motion to the brunette girl.

"Dunno, Rosie. She looks pretty pleased. Looks like she's having a hell of a time walking."

Andrew snickers darkly and Lorcan guffaws in agreement. Indeed, the girl's legs are shaking and she's leaning into Scorpius's side for support. Rose feels her face flush, dismayed at the images Al's speculation pulls up, before replacing her look of jealousy and embarrassment with one of devilish mischief.

"That, boys," she says, biting into her apple once more, "is because she spends most of her time on her knees."

It's a low blow, completely uncalled for and a bit heartless, especially coming from Rose Weasley's introverted personality.

They stare at her in obvious, open surprise before exchanging shocked glances. Lorcan is the first to break the group's silence by starting a slow, impressed clap. Each of them, one by one, bursts into a fit of raucous laughter. Rose joins in, eventually, finding it difficult to draw breaths when she hears Albus gasping and braying like a donkey

Suddenly, the boys stop, and Rose removes her hand from her mouth, slowly and with more than a little worry.

"What?"

Their eyes all nervously turn to something behind her, something she can't see, and Rose can feel her heart drop. She dares a look over her shoulder, red curls bouncing against her chin as she turns.

Scorpius stands there with the girl, who looks downright pissed. Her eyebrows are knitted together, and Rose thinks that, if the brunette weren't holding hands with the tall Malfoy, one of her fists would probably be aimed at her face.

Scorpius, on the other hand, looks like he's doing his hardest to stop an amused smirk crack his stoically straight mouth.

"Clever, Weasley. Though…do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

Rose's boys look extremely angry, about as miffed as the brunette, and Al opens his mouth to retaliate to the implication.

She can't help but think back to the incident in the library a few weeks back, when Scorpius had her absolutely flustered and shoved against a bookshelf. They hadn't done _anything_, really, just an unhealthy dose of flirting and implying on Malfoy's part, but even if the simple memory causes something pleasing and full of frustration to zap into her head, she's not about to let Scorpius wind her up again.

"Oh, no, Scorpius. You misunderstand. I was simply calling out your collective sexual promiscuity." Al's mouth opens again in the same shocked expression of admiration, and the twins lean forward to hear the final bit of Rose's zinger.

"Alone, you've both got quite the reputation…but together, Merlin. The broom closet must get a lot of business between classes, hm?"

Albus can't contain himself any longer, and he slams his dark head into the table, shoulders shaking spastically with hysterical, silent laughter. Andrew has a hand over his mouth, but it's not enough to hide the corners of his obvious grin. The twins, however, are open about their reaction, turning towards each other and laughing into the others' shoulder, looking collectively redder than Rose's hair.

She realizes she has gained the approval of several girls at the Gryffindor table, who are, no doubt, as jealous as she is, and happy that one of Scorpius's many girlfriends has finally been taken down a few pegs.

Scorpius remains collected and Rose wonders if his mischievous grin ever vanishes –she can't tell if she's amused him or not. His date, however, has gone absolutely mental, twisting away from under his arm. She stomps out of the Great Hall, muttering something about the Malfoy heir failing to defend and uphold her honor.

The Slytherin Keeper, along with every other student in the Great Hall, watches her storm out. When the large doors slam shut, he turns to the hysterical Gryffindors in front of him. His attention is focused suddenly on Rose, and her knees practically turn to jelly at the sexy grin he shoots her way. Stubborn as ever, though, she turns her back.

She can _feel_ the astonished shock and change in his body language as she does so. He seems to recover quickly. Once again, similar to the moment in the library, Rose feels his breath on her neck, on her ear, just below her temple. Some part of her, weak and awed, begs for him to plant his lips on that spot.

"Being subtle is _not_ one of your stronger talents, Rosie."

Rose swivels around to tell him off, but he cheekily holds up his hands and takes two steps backward, arms open wide in a peace offering. Her gaze, along with almost every other pair of female irises at the table, follow the tautness of his shirt stretched over his chest.

She blinks, slightly dazed, and slips her eyes back up to his face. Crossing her arms, Rose lifts her eyebrow coldly. Scorpius mocks her by mimicking her crossed arms and raised eyebrow, looking wickedly handsome as he does so.

Rose rolls her eyes once again, turning her back for the second time. Still, she can't stop her hands from shaking excitedly, and she's pent-up with excitement for the rest of breakfast. Albus notices, and suspiciously questions her strange behavior when they leave the Hall.

"Bloody _hell_, you prat. I'm worried that I may have caught something – did you see how close the creep got?"

Albus, ever gullible, crows with laughter and jogs off to tell Andrew and the twins what she had just implied.

Rose can feel a pair of stormy eyes watching her as she turns the corner to Divination. Unable to help herself, her own lips pull into a mischievous smirk, and she raises her hand in a cheeky wave goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

A few months later, in the dead of winter, Rose Weasley sits at a table in Divination. Her gaze is fixed angrily on the glass sphere in front of her, willing the smoke within to shift into something she can bloody fucking _see._

"So, basically, I'll get lost in some damned foggy woods, walk through some fog, and then arrive at some more bloody fog," she growls, and Lysander looks up from his work at her. He laughs, shaking his head merrily, curly dark hair flying every which way. He leans over, tapping a finger against Rose's crystal ball.

"You're shit at this," he says, and if Rose didn't know her friend better, she would have mistaken the tone in his voice as impatience.

"I am, I can't deny it," she sighs, and watches him work. Lysander glances between the parchment in his lap and Rose's crystal a few times.

"Well, this little wisp right here means you'll die at the many legs of a ferocious green spider," Rose blanches, despite the obvious lie. The younger Scamander has always been an avid and talented story teller, and at the moment, his light, relaxed voice is eerie enough to make her believe him.

"And this one right here means that you'll be reincarnated as a fat, old cow…" Lysander glances at her, and then chuckles. "That one's already true, never mind."

Rose raises her fish to punch him in the shoulder, but Trelawney decides to renter the class room at the exact moment. The Weasley lets her hand fall on Lysander's head, patting affectionately as if he were a dog.

"You're very good at this, Lysander. Thank you for divining my entire future and the collective futures of my many descendants," she says loudly when Trelawney flutters by, earning her friend a pleased smile. The professor claps her hands and the babbling in the room dies down. She brings her glasses up to her beaky nose, and opens her mouth to prepare a lecture. Lysander groans and flips his parchment to begin a new set of notes.

Suddenly, the door to the tower slams open. Everyone cheers at the distraction, glad to have gotten out of a lecture, if only for a few moments. The Divination professor's various preachings are known for being notorious, half-sane ramblings. The only student who seems to enjoy the lectures is Lysander, who sighs. With a thump, his parchment and quill fall back to the table.

Everyone, out of reflex, turns to stare at the poor soul that has decided to interrupt class. Most of the girls gasp in unison, and then start giggling and gossiping frantically. Rose opens her mouth to sigh as well, but Lysander slaps a hand over her mouth. She feels like thanking him, but instead hisses "You stupid git," when the skin around her mouth begins to sting from the quick strike. Lysander shrugs apologetically.

Scorpius Malfoy strides confidently into the room, egotistical and intimidating as ever with his noble aura and prideful composure. His pride, in fact, rivals that of a hippogriff's. Trelawney peeks down her spectacles at him, raising an eyebrow judgmentally at the rude interruption.

"Erhm, Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing here? If I'm not mistaken, you should be in Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Heffernan, am I, ah, correct?"

Scorpius flashes the teacher a dazzling smile, and nods.

"Unfortunately, there was a slight dispute between Albus Potter and I. My punishmen-…er, and I've been told to switch my schedule, as to avoid further conflict."

Rose's heart leaps into her throat at the idea of Albus being injured, and Lysander is fast to jump to his feet, worried for his best friend's safety.

Trelawney is still slightly confused at the sight of a new student appearing in the middle of the year, and Rose feels terrible at the utterly lost look in her eyes when Lysander stands. She rises next to him, grabbing his arm and dragging back down into his seat with finality. Rose tries to calm him down, but Scorpius's reaction to her friend isn't helping.

The blonde just smirks at the display and Lysander flips him the bird over Trelawney's head.

The Malfoy's face flashes with resenting anger, and he raises his wand. Their professor squeaks, and stammers for him to put it away, and Scorpius covers up his aggression quickly. He waves his wand at the Divination textbooks behind her. "Just getting my copy, ma'am," he explains. Rose can't believe she's so easily fooled.

"Oh I do so hope you'll enjoy the class, Mr. Malfoy. The others have not been so lucky with their readings…" she says disappointedly, and then turns to her desk, clapping her hands.

"So, in lieu of that, let's try swapping partners! Students, please point your wands at your balls and repeat after me! This spell will reduce the chances of-"

But no one's listening. There's a huge round of laughter at the professor's choice of words, though Trelawney either chooses to ignore it, or is oblivious.

Rose manages the spell through her giggles, and helps a pissed-off Lysander with his crystal ball when she's done. She isn't too excited to switch around partners, just because she doesn't know anyone else in the classroom besides Lysander, and is way too unsociable with any of the other girls to try and get along with them.

Besides, they'll all probably force her into reading a prophecy like "You will soon get shagged by a tall, sexy blonde."

While Trelawney shifts through ungraded essays absentmindedly, she flicks her wand at the giant piece of parchment behind her desk. An equally large quill begins writing the names of the new pairs, and Rose groans when Lysander's pops up away from hers. Her friend claps her on the back and wishes her luck before hurrying off to the other side of the room. Rose drops her head into her hands, scribbling a circle into her parchment. _This class is horrendous._

Suddenly, someone plops down onto the pillowed armchair next to her. Rose sighs, owning up to the fact that she'll have a completely different partner – probably a stranger. She debates being unpleasant so the person will want to work alone, but in the end decides against it. She _needs_ a good mark in Divination, and cheating her way out of partner work isn't going to help her get it.

"Well, _hello_, Weasley," the voice is decidedly male, but Rose doesn't need to look up from her parchment to place the boy's face.

"Honestly? _Honestly?_ I work so bloody hard and this is how I'm repaid? Am I not being ambitious enough? Does the universe despise me?" Rose laments dramatically. She thumps her head against the table and stays there, staring at the grain of the wood and hoping he'll just get up and leave.

"Comments like that will force me to believe you are a Slytherin at heart," he says off-handedly.

"You are a complete fucking tart, can we just do it please?"

"And how exactly would you like to _do_ _it_?" accompanied by a deep, cheeky laugh. Rose's face goes absolutely tomato-red.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, pervert," she exclaims. Turning back to her work, she wishes him away.

Rose lifts her head, determinded to work despite the…adversity that accompanies her partner. She begins by staring blankly at the empty crystal ball.

She can feel the eyes of almost every girl in the room glaring daggers into her back, but wills herself to focus. She can't escape the exaggerated thought that her life is now in danger, and she briefly toys with the idea of hiring Hank Goyle as a bodyguard for the rest of her miserable existence. Partnering with Malfoy for one class means death threats for life.

"You like it, Weasley."

"I don't."

"You like _me_, Weasley."

"I really truly, _don't."_

"You're very attracted to me, obviously."

"I am _not_ attracted to you! I these lovely things called _standards. _It means I have decent taste in boys." she hisses as venomously as she can.

"What's that about taste? I'd like to give you something to taste, Weasley."

Rose flushes even redder, swiveling her head to glare at him. "This is bordering on sexual harassment. Must you be so creepy every time we speak?" she demands, and Scorpius nods in agreement.

"Affirmative."

"Fuck you."

"If you'd like."

She loses her patience, votes just to ignore him.

"So then it's a possibility?"

She shakes her head, sighing and returning to her work.

After a few minutes of silence, Rose gives up on her readings and sneaks a peek at what Scorpius is doing. He's writing methodically, looking up at his crystal and studying it before taking careful notes of what he sees. His penmanship is remarkable, and Rose finds herself leaning closer to get a better look at the neat and unified notes he's taking.

Scorpius looks up suddenly, and it hasn't been since their incident in the library since she's seen his eyes this close. They really are brilliant, all monochrome gray and swirling with stormy flecks of blue. She likes them. A lot.

"Why won't you just _admit it_, Weasley? We could just skip class and have a nice snog."

Rose pulls her chair farther away before swiping his parchment away. With a steady hand, she draws a small stick-figure resembling him hanging by a tree, eyes comical x's. He chuckles, and takes the parchment back. Erasing the tree with a quick spell, Scorpius edits the drawing to include larger muscles and then adds another figure, on its knees, in front of his stick-self.

From the bushy hair, it's obvious that the new figure is Rose.

"Oh, _fuck off_, Malfoy. Can't you be civil and just a _little_ mature for once in your life?"

"I'd like to think this fantastic drawing is more than mature, Weasley. I mean, look at what you're doing."

"I'm finding it increasingly difficult to convince myself not to strangle you."

"You're into some pretty kinky shit, aren't you Rosie?"

She gives up. With a flop, Rose lets her head fall to the table again and covers her empty parchment with the sleeves of her Gryffindor sweater. It's just no use trying to get anything done with Malfoy around. He's just too bloody annoying, and he just is too perverted…but he just smells too good and _Merlin_ is he good looking and he's right there…

_Fuck it all, Rose. Stop!_

"Oh, oops."

"What?"

"Dropped my quill."

Rose watches Scorpius push his shaggy blonde head under the table, rolling her eyes when eh reaches dramatically under the tablecloth and into the darkness.

"Malfoy! You fucking _asshole!_" Rose shrieks when his fingers suddenly ghost down her calf, and she twitches away from him thoroughly pissed. Scorpius pops up from under the table, smirking like a mad man. The Weasley tries not to stare at his tantalizingly close face.

The quirk of his lips is doing something funny to her stomach, and he seems to sense this. The tall Slytherin starts to lean closer, still smirking. Rose thinks fast and pushes him away, triumphant when he topples from the chair and falls onto.

"Owie," Scorpius complains, and Rose violently crosses her arms.

"You really will be arrested for harassment one day, Malfoy," she hisses, and Scorpius nods.

"Only if you put the handcuffs on me, Rosie."

"Oh, _fuck you Malfoy!_" she screeches.

"I'm looking forward to that!"

Her last curse gets them both detentions for two weeks.

Rose pushes a few stray curls from her face as she mops the floor of the trophy room, still cursing under her breath. Scorpius stands a few feet away, leaning on the top of his broom and watching her work.

"You could fucking help, you know," she says, and Scorpius shakes his head, smirking.

"I prefer to observe."

"Oh, I bet you do, fucking prat." she mutters under her breath, but he definitely hears her because he drops his broom and saunters over to her. Rose stops mopping with both hands to reach a palm out and push him backwards, but Scorpius grabs her wrist. She's suddenly _obscenely_ close to him, breathing the same air.

Rose stares up at him for a moment, before opening her mouth in surprise. Scorpius thinks he's finally won her over, but the quick downwards swoop her eyebrows take warns him of the latter. The heel of one of Rose's flats slams down on his toe, and he winces, letting go of her wrist.

"Personal space, Malfoy," she says darkly, suddenly very intimidating and foreboding. It's pretty hot, so he tucks a loose fire-orange curl behind her ear, and that earns him another stomp.


End file.
